O Selene, th’ dawn of thee, so begets th’ writ of woe.
As day retreats, for repose ‘t seeks, so comes thy ancient glow.
Of burnishéd gold, and shimmering tones, and evokes a fecund mood.
Thus, to thy beauty a song, celestial one, goddess who weeps for erstwhile love.

Anew Selene, call I to thee, she who dwells above.
E’en mortals ‘neath, too share thy grief, strangers not to anguished *****.
So too we plead may love not cease ev'n as parts Earthly form.
Ere finality proceeds, ‘fore life’s fugacity, do I take to verse solemn.

Aye, dolefully I sing, mid the reign of e’en.
How the nightly hour doth conjure lament.
And though th’ heavens are replete with th’ color of ebony.
Embosomed am I by august luminescence.

O Mother of seas, Muse of th’ Greeks.
Predilect of th’ Romantics.
Anon Apollo shall greet th’ skies with light abounding.
Yet, will I await the return of thy presence.